Chapter 5: The Price of Power
Elyra's fingers lingered on the Ashen Heart as she stood before the throne of blackened bone, its surface still warm from her blood. The relic's power thrummed through her, a living pulse that healed the gashes on her leg and shoulder, but it came with a hunger—dark, insatiable, clawing at her insides. The chains of red light binding Zane, Cassian, and Theron glowed brighter, their shirtless forms kneeling before her, muscles tense, sweat and blood streaking their skin.
The Ruins' chamber, with its skull-lined walls, pulsed with a low hum, the air thick with magic and unspoken desire. She could feel their eyes on her—Zane's fierce hunger, Cassian's predatory smirk, Theron's conflicted gaze—all tethered to her will.
"You're mine now," she said, her voice steady despite the tremor in her chest. She stepped down from the throne, the Heart's weight shifting in her hands, and circled the men. Zane's broad chest heaved, his axe discarded, his hands flexing as if itching to grab her. Cassian's runes flared, his lean frame leaning forward, his magic brushing her mind with a teasing heat. Theron's jaw tightened, his sword sheathed, but his eyes traced the blood stains on her torn trousers, a battle raging behind his stoic mask.
"Elyra," Zane growled, his voice rough as gravel, "this power's eating you. Let me take it." He shifted, the chain pulling taut, and his gaze locked on her lips, a dark promise in his eyes. He lunged slightly, testing the bond, but the magic yanked him back to his knees, a frustrated snarl escaping him.
"No," she snapped, stopping in front of him. She ran a finger down his chest, tracing a jagged scar, and he shuddered, his breath hitching. "You'll take what I give.
" Her touch lingered, deliberate, and she felt the chain pulse, amplifying his reaction. His groan was low, primal, and she stepped back, satisfied.
Cassian chuckled, a dark, throaty sound that sent a shiver down her spine.
"Give me a taste, then." He leaned closer, his chain rattling, and his magic slipped into her mind, stirring a pulse between her thighs. She slapped him, the crack echoing in the chamber, but his grin widened, his eyes glinting with intent. "Feisty," he murmured, licking his lips. "I like it."
Theron's voice cut through, low and desperate. "Stop this. It's killing you." He shifted on his knees, his hands flexing, and his gaze roamed her body—her sweat-slicked neck, the curve of her hips—before he forced it away. "The Heart's cursed. You can't control it."
"Maybe not," she said, turning to face him. "But I'll die trying." She stepped closer, her shadow falling over him, and his breath hitched, his erection straining against his trousers. The bond was working, their desire a weapon she could wield, but the hunger inside her grew, threatening to overwhelm her control.
Before she could press further, the skulls on the walls cracked open with a deafening snap, releasing a swarm of shadow spirits. Their forms were wispy, claw-tipped, and their red eyes locked on her, drawn by the Heart's power and her blood.
Elyra reacted instantly, daggers flashing as she slashed at the nearest spirit, its form dissipating into ash. The chains yanked the men into action—Zane's axe cleaved through a cluster, his roar shaking the chamber; Cassian's necrotic energy burned another swarm, black tendrils coiling like snakes; Theron's blade danced, cutting with lethal precision.
But the spirits were relentless. One latched onto her, its claws digging into her shoulder, cold and invasive. It whispered in her mind—Give in, taste eternity—promising pleasure laced with death. She struggled, her dagger slipping, and Zane tore it off, his massive frame slamming into hers.
Their lips crashed in a brutal kiss, his tongue invading her mouth, tasting blood and sweat, before he pulled back, panting. The contact ignited a fire in her, and she shoved him off, her heart pounding.
Cassian's hands gripped her waist, steadying her as he unleashed another blast, his magic amplifying the heat of their touch.
"Let me in," he murmured, his lips brushing her ear, and she elbowed him, breaking free, though the sensation lingered. Theron shielded her, his body pressed close, his erection undeniable against her hip as he sliced through a spirit. She felt his tension, his hands brushing her skin, and she pushed him away, her face burning.
The swarm thinned, the last spirit dissolving under Theron's blade. Elyra stumbled to the throne, the Heart pulsing in her hands, its light bathing the chamber in red. The hunger surged, her vision blurring, and she gripped the relic tighter, fighting to stay in control.
"You're mine," she gasped, her voice breaking. "All of you." The men knelt, the chains tightening, their desire a palpable force—Zane's growl, Cassian's smirk, Theron's shudder.
The Ruins trembled, and a massive shadow formed in the distance, its growl echoing off the walls. Elyra's legs weakened, the Heart's power warring with her will. She turned to the men, their eyes locked on her, their bodies straining. "Get up," she ordered, the chains lifting them. "We're not done."
They rose, Zane wiping blood from his chest, Cassian adjusting his stance, Theron sheathing his sword with a reluctant glance at her. The shadow grew, its form taking shape—taller than the bloodlord, its claws glinting. Elyra's blood dripped onto the floor, and the Heart flared, the voice whispering again: The price is their souls—or yours. She tightened her grip, her mind racing. This was her game, but the cost was climbing, and she'd need every ounce of their desire to survive.
The men flanked her, their breaths syncing with hers, their lust a chain she'd forge into a weapon. The shadow lunged, and the fight began anew, the chamber shaking with the force of their struggle.
Elyra's daggers met its claws, Zane's axe swung, Cassian's magic flared, and Theron's blade struck true. But the shadow's power matched the Heart's, and with each strike, the hunger inside her grew, threatening to consume her—or them. The chamber darkened, the stakes rising, and Elyra knew this battle would test the limits of her control.